“Fuck me,” I beg.
He lingers at my entrance. He touches the tip of his cock to my clit, and I as it throbs, I feel teasing jolts of pleasure.
“Fuck—” I begin.
And then he’s inside me.
“Me!” I squeal in pain. He’s so thick.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
I nod slowly.
“I haven’t gone all the way,” he says, gritting his teeth, holding back with obvious effort. “I haven’t broken your hymen.”
“Do it,” I tell him.
He plunges all the way inside me and I gasp. It’s a strange mixture of pleasure and pain, and I’m not sure one cancels out the other. No, I feel them both.
He doesn’t move. Instead, he stays deep inside me, his body joined to mine.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re so tight.”
I look at his face, wondering if that’s a bad thing, but all I see in his eyes is desire, sheer and unmitigated. I sense a hunger in him for everything that’s me, like he wants to eat me up. That turns me on immensely and the pain lessens a little.
He starts pounding. Like crazy. He wasn’t kidding when he said he wouldn’t be able to control himself, and now I’m experiencing the raw unbridled passion that is Massimo. He’s rough. Almost too rough. But it does feel good. Pleasure and pain compete for dominance, and I don’t know whether to cum or cry.
I try to keep my panting to a minimum, knowing that the house isn’t empty. I’m not sure his fellow kidnapper would approve of him having sex with the prize, and the last thing I want is for some balaclava-clad dude to come rushing in here while we’re fucking.
I quickly find myself nearing the climax, and the pain vanishes almost completely. I begin rocking my hips encouragingly in time to his own thrusts, until my back arches and my toes curl up.
“Massimo,” I say softly as the pleasure explodes inside me. “Massimo.”
I collapse. Massimo groans, and when I feel a warmth spreading inside me I realize he’s climaxed as well.
Then he slumps on top of me. I’m nearly crushed beneath his weight, and for a moment can’t breath, but then he regains control of the primal animal that had taken over and rolls off.
He looks into my eyes and caresses my cheek. “Are you all right? Was I too rough?”
“A little,” I say. “But it felt good.”
“Seriously, tell me if I hurt you,” he insists.
I shake my head. “The only hurt was you stopping so soon.”
I glance down at his deflating cock. It’s coated in cum and blood. I touch it and instantly it springs to life once more.
He kisses me, hard, and then reaches a finger inside of me. He’s doing something he didn’t do before, maybe because he was worried about breaking my hymen, but I immediately start squirming right away. I don’t know precisely what he’s doing, but he’s hitting just the right spot inside of me. I still feel some lingering pain, but I ignore it, concentrating on this new sensation.
I return his kiss and open my eyes, looking into his. The desire is so plain there. Everything I saw before, the hatred, the anger, the ice, it’s all faded away. I’m looking at the Massimo with all the layers and defenses he’s put up stripped away. The boy I used to know. I was right, he’s still there, somewhere inside. At least that’s what I tell myself. Maybe I’m blinded by pleasure.
He continues to finger me and bends over to nuzzle my breasts at the same time. He chooses one to suck—the breast above my heart—and as he caresses my areola and bites my nipple, it only enhances the pleasure and the climax building between my legs.
I stare at him as he works, looking at those broad, muscular shoulders, that thick, corded neck. I can’t help but run my hand through his sexy beach blonde hair. I feel so safe with him in this moment. Like nothing could ever harm me while he’s near. I feel complete. Like we were always meant to do this. Like I’ve been waiting eight years for this.
Which I have.
I’m getting close, but he stops before I climax.
